Topic: Late at night I ...

[goldshirt*9]

slept poorly as per normal

[goldshirt*9]

reading up about Sleep paralysis.
I didn't realise there was a explanation for what occasionally disrupts my sleep, I just put it down to working silly hour. Worried the hell out of me last night 
Not being of the religious type, I stand with the medical explanation of what happens.
The alternative explanation worries me

[6pairsofshoes]

drink red wine and think about sleep

[smokester]

drink red wine and think about sleep

That's an odd coincidence.  I usually sleep and think about red wine.

[goldshirt*9]

I realised that even after a hot shower how much I radiated coldness after cycling home.
wife almost kicked me out of bed   

[smokester]

I realised that even after a hot shower how much I radiated coldness after cycling home.
wife almost kicked me out of bed 

Mine does that in the summer.

[tarascon]

Tend to get up for the day; been waking at 3 - 3:30 am.
Once I'm awake, I'm up...

[smokester]

Tend to get up for the day; been waking at 3 - 3:30 am.
Once I'm awake, I'm up...

I had that a while back due to pains in the arms.

Bugger all to do at 3am, especially when you're trying not to wake others up.

[goldshirt*9]

went to a 50th party in the local club, great until a certain family turned on itself 
Alcohol and young people taking drugs do not mix.
Made a hasty exit

[smokester]

went to a 50th party in the local club, great until a certain family turned on itself 
Alcohol and young people taking drugs do not mix.
Made a hasty exit

Sometimes drugs can negate the effect of alcohol.  That can be useful in volatile situations.

Nonetheless, exiting sounds like it was a good strategy.

[goldshirt*9]

when the drugs don't work etc etc etc
Young girl collapsed in the loo from drugs, family screaming at everyone within short distance of collapsed person.
pushing and shoving all around.
 

[smokester]

Listen to the missus snore.

[6pairsofshoes]

Wake up and think about stuff.  There's so much stuff to think about.  It's exhausting.

[goldshirt*9]

I agree sometimes your too tired to sleep

[6pairsofshoes]

City That Does Not Sleep


In the sky there is nobody asleep. Nobody, nobody.
Nobody is asleep.
The creatures of the moon sniff and prowl about their cabins.
The living iguanas will come and bite the men who do not dream,
and the man who rushes out with his spirit broken will meet on the
street corner
the unbelievable alligator quiet beneath the tender protest of the
stars.

Nobody is asleep on earth. Nobody, nobody.
Nobody is asleep.
In a graveyard far off there is a corpse
who has moaned for three years
because of a dry countryside on his knee;
and that boy they buried this morning cried so much
it was necessary to call out the dogs to keep him quiet.

Life is not a dream. Careful! Careful! Careful!
We fall down the stairs in order to eat the moist earth
or we climb to the knife edge of the snow with the voices of the dead
dahlias.
But forgetfulness does not exist, dreams do not exist;
flesh exists. Kisses tie our mouths
in a thicket of new veins,
and whoever his pain pains will feel that pain forever
and whoever is afraid of death will carry it on his shoulders.

One day
the horses will live in the saloons
and the enraged ants
will throw themselves on the yellow skies that take refuge in the
eyes of cows.

Another day
we will watch the preserved butterflies rise from the dead
and still walking through a country of gray sponges and silent boats
we will watch our ring flash and roses spring from our tongue.
Careful! Be careful! Be careful!
The men who still have marks of the claw and the thunderstorm,
and that boy who cries because he has never heard of the invention
of the bridge,
or that dead man who possesses now only his head and a shoe,
we must carry them to the wall where the iguanas and the snakes
are waiting,
where the bear's teeth are waiting,
where the mummified hand of the boy is waiting,
and the hair of the camel stands on end with a violent blue shudder.

Nobody is sleeping in the sky. Nobody, nobody.
Nobody is sleeping.
If someone does close his eyes,
a whip, boys, a whip!
Let there be a landscape of open eyes
and bitter wounds on fire.
No one is sleeping in this world. No one, no one.
I have said it before.

No one is sleeping.
But if someone grows too much moss on his temples during the
night,
open the stage trapdoors so he can see in the moonlight
the lying goblets, and the poison, and the skull of the theaters.
Federico García Lorca